


Under the Winter Sun

by MysteryGirl22



Category: The Secret of NIMH (1982)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2019-06-11 19:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15322827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysteryGirl22/pseuds/MysteryGirl22
Summary: The Brisby family is invited to spend the winter with the rats in their new home in Thorn Valley, but will this simple trip turn out to be more?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was part of my Fanfic Fragments mash-up thing, but I decided to put it into its own story, since I'm about done with chapter five at this point. I wouldn't count on this updating as regularly as any of my Zootopia fics, but I do hope I'll be able to get at least a bit further with it.   
> This is also the first real SoN fic I've had in years, so that's another factor in the sporadic updates it'll likely have. Plus, this site could really use more of them, there's hardly any!

_ 'It's been so long,' _ the words flowed from his pen before he knew he was writing them.  _ 'I don't think I can wait anymore.’ _

He twirled the quill slowly in his hand, watching the candle light dance across the incandescent green feather. Everything had gone so beautifully since their sudden departure, he knew that fact alone should have settled him. Yet there was a small, longing flame deep in his chest that refused to be snuffed out. He knew he no longer had a choice, not if he wanted to stay sane.

_ I have to go, _ he decided.  _ I have to see them again. _

He set the hummingbird feather back in his small inkwell, a handmade gift from one of his many admirers. He waited until the words had dried on the page, shutting the large book carefully, running his hand slowly along the worn leather cover. As always, the final night at the farm played vividly in his mind, almost too vividly.

He could feel the fear when the lines had snapped, the sadness when he had discovered Nicodemus' shattered body under the wreckage. Then came the anger once he'd learned what had really caused the 'accident', the pain when that monster's sword had sliced into his flesh. The scar was still there, burning whenever he thought about it.

But what he remembered the most was another kind of fear, when he'd heard Mrs. Brisby calling for him after the battle. Every piece of rope they could find had been used to secure the quickly-sinking cinder block, only for the weakened lines to snap from the weight. Eventually, he had lost all hope, grabbing the young mother to prevent losing her as well.

Of course, that was when everything had changed. The Stone had awoken then, allowing her to single-handedly save her children and move the same home they had failed to. It was the same jewel she had given him that night, claiming they needed it far more than she. The same jewel that now gleamed so proudly around his own neck. He cupped it in his palm, bringing it up so he could gaze into the curved, blood-red surface. A light still lived at the center, fading in and out like the pulse of a living heart.

_ Even asleep, it's still so beautiful… _

After what felt like a short eternity, he let the gem slip, the simple gold backing thumping softly against his chest. He had felt so different since that night, the change coming on the moment she'd draped that golden chain around his neck. Like the fire in his heart, this feeling refused to die, instead growing day by day.

_ What could it mean, though, _ he wondered.  _ What could the Stone be trying to tell me? _

He shook his head, looking up to see the last vestiges of sunlight sinking against the jagged face of Thorn Mountain. If he wished to make an early start, he would have to rest now. He sighed deeply, turning from the view in his small window. He went to the door that connected his office to that of his secretary, seeing the young woman hard at work on her new typewriter, Arthur's latest achievement.

She looked up, her pretty face taking on a sweet blush.

"Is there something I can help you with, Sir?" she asked.

"Tell Odin to prepare two ravens," he said, a bit more firmly than he had intended. Was he really that affected? "I'm leaving for the farm at dawn."

"Yes, Sir," she hurried off. He ducked back into his office, going to the far door that led to his extra sleeping quarters. The small room held little more than a simple bed and trunk, but it had proved to be a godsend on several occasions. Once he'd undressed, he fairly collapsed on the mattress, clutching the Stone one last time before laying it on the nightstand. As he waited for mental exhaustion to pull him into the realm of sleep, he imagined what the following day might bring. If, for once, things would actually go the way he had planned.


	2. Chapter 2

The last few weeks of fall was one of the busiest times of the year, but because of that, it was also one of her favorites. She loved taking the children with her, turning their hunts for seeds and berries into games of I Spy, telling them the same stories their father had probably told them hundreds of times.

Their father. Jonathan. How long had it been since she’d last thought of him? Just a few months ago, her grief and sadness over his death had torn its way through almost every waking moment. Lately, however, all that came to mind were happy memories. The night he first said he loved her, the magic of their wedding day, when each of their children had come into the world.

That had all changed when she met the rats, when she finally learned the full truth behind his death. Everything had become clear to her, and while she still missed Jonathan greatly, she knew now she was ready to move on, restlessly waiting for anything and everything the future decided to bring their way.

She tightened her grip on her basket; sunflower seeds, corn kernels, even a couple late season blackberries. Their store room was nearly full by now, ensuring they’d have enough to last through the winter. She strolled through the yard without fear, as Dragon, the farmer’s old demon of a cat, had finally met his end. The kitten they had gotten to take his place had no interest in coming after her family, content to scare the sparrows and squirrels that lighted on Mrs. Fitzgibbon’s birdfeeders.

She looked up as two shadows passed overhead; headed straight for the rock in the garden! Her children!

“Oh, no!”

Dropping her basket, she hurried on all fours. Her children would be alright when she arrived, she assured herself. They knew to hide if any strange creature came near their home. The young mother ran for all she was worth, yet still fell hopelessly behind the shadows. Please, God, let them still be alive when she got there! At last, she burst through the tall grass that bordered their home, collapsing when she heard a chorus of excited laughter and voices.

The two shadows she had seen in the field were perched on top of the stone that protected their cinder block home. Coal dark talons, onyx eyes as sharp as their black beaks, dark feathers that gleamed like oil in the late autumn sun. She gulped. Ravens.

“Momma!”

Timothy ran to her, waving. He had made a full recovery, now even more energetic than he’d been before catching ill. His bright blue eyes shone like his smile, his scampering brought to an end as his tail tangled with his feet.

“Timmy,” she put a hand to her chest. Her heart was still pounding, her breath still heavy. She allowed herself another moment to calm before speaking again. “Timmy, what’s going on here?”

“Come see for yourself!” he tugged on her hand. “Come on!”

Still wary of the birds keeping watch above, she allowed her son to drag her along, to the shady lee of the stone. A caped figure knelt by the other children, smiling at their obvious enthusiasm.

“Of course Mother will say yes!” said Teresa. She looked just like her mother, a true beauty, their friends said. Martin nodded. While not quite the spitting image of his father, he was just as tall, though still a bit chubby. Cynthia was clapping, jumping up and down and laughing excitedly. She’d grown slightly taller, her hair longer. Timothy dropped his mother’s hand, joining his siblings as they rushed inside.

“Mother’s here,” he shouted to the stranger. The figure turned to her, rising slowly to their feet. The hearty grin had left their face completely, replaced by a mask of surprise. They took a step closer, coming into the sunlight.

“Mrs.…Brisby…”

She couldn’t believe her eyes, running forward before she even realized it.

“Justin!”

The young rat swept her into a warm embrace, a gesture she returned in full. Their reunion was no longer just a dream, it was actually happening! She felt his arms tighten briefly around her, then he pulled away, keeping his hands on her shoulders.

“I was starting to think I’d never see you again,” she said. He smiled again, the expression tinged with sadness and exhaustion.

“I know, and I’m sorry it took so long,” he swallowed. “Things have just been…”

He trailed off when she hugged him again, when he thought he felt tears soaking into his fur.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she pulled back, wiping her eyes with her palm. “I know how busy you must be.

He gave a short chuckle.

“Well, that’s certainly true,” he cleared his throat. “But that’s not the only reason I came to see you.”

He knelt again, taking her hands.

“Mrs. Brisby, I’ve come to formally invite you and your family to stay the winter in Thorn Valley.”

The sudden heat of a blush burned her cheeks; she found it impossible to speak. His eyes, so warm and earnest, gazed deeply into hers, waiting for her response. She swallowed, nodding shyly.

“Y-Yes,” she managed, then her voice grew a bit stronger. “Yes, we’d love to.”

Cheers sounded behind her, the children crowding around them.

“I told you she’d say yes!” Teresa shouted. Justin and her mother laughed.

“And it’s a good thing I did,” she said, turning to the four bags piled where they’d been dropped. The children had packed them almost a month ago, certain even then they’d be spending winter with the rats. “I better go get my things together.”


	3. Chapter 3

Mrs. Brisby did her best not to look toward the ground. The two ravens flew higher than Jeremy ever had, half the land below lost in a growing white mist. Cynthia and Teresa sat in front of her, Timothy and Martin riding with Justin on the other. All four of the children were having the time of their lives, leaning over to drag their hands through the clouds, laughing and cheering as the wind whipped at their clothes and hair.

_ This will be good for them,  _ she thought.  _ Being with others like them. _

Ever since she’d told them the truth of their father’s death, they had begged to know all they could about what his other life had been like, why he’d decided to keep it all a secret from them. Justin had given them as much information as he could in the few minutes he’d been able to spend with them that night, but it had only served to heighten their curiosity, which she knew she’d never be able to satisfy.

She knew they’d get the answers they longed for in the valley, and as much as that gladdened her, she couldn’t help but worry. Would they shun her for being ‘normal’, as some of the rats had? What if they decided they no longer needed her? As much as she tried to assure herself the thought was a foolish one, she knew there was always a possibility.

_ It won’t happen,  _ she thought.  _ It can’t! _

“Why are we going down, momma?” Cynthia’s question could barely be heard over the wind. Mrs. Brisby risked a look below, seeing her daughter was right. The blurred landscape was slowly growing closer, the chill stronger as the sun began to set.

“It’s too dangerous to fly at night,” Justin called to them. “We’ll set out again in the morning.”

A few minutes later, the ravens landed near a tall pine tree, a small hole cut into the base of the trunk. They pranced impatiently as the five of them dismounted, taking off before they had the chance to grab their bags. Justin shook his head, watching as they settled on a thick branch near the top of the tree.

“They’re always doing that,” he informed the mice. He nodded toward the base. “Come on, let’s get inside before we freeze.”

* * *

Mrs. Brisby set aside her bowl, scooting closer to the fire. The air had cooled quickly after the sun had set, her thin cape offering little protection. She turned to the children, curled up together in a mound of cotton, a large scrap of thick wool protecting them from the chill. Justin was kneeling next to them, singing a soft lullaby to Cynthia. At last, the little mouse nodded off, smiling in her sleep when he set her dropped toy back in her arms. He kissed her forehead, tucking the edge of the wool beneath her.

“You’re so good with them,” Mrs. Brisby whispered when he sat by the fire. He added another handful of straw, stoking the flames.

“I’ve always loved working with kids,” he answered, a streak of sadness in his tone. “Especially now that…”

“Now that what?” she touched his shoulder, trying to hide the fact her teeth were starting to chatter. He gazed sidelong at her, unclasping his cape and draping it around her. She blushed, pulling it more tightly around her. “Oh, t-thank you…”

“It’s alright,” he brought his legs to his chest, resting his folded arms on his knees. He looked so forlorn, so lonely, it made her heart ache. She scooted closer to him, touching his side.

“Especially now that what?” she prodded gently. He watched the flames a while longer before sighing heavily.

“It was a few days before I started my training to be a guard,” he began. “One of the new tunnels had collapsed. I was helping with the cleanup when she arrived, saying she was looking for her father, our head architect.

“Her name was Alice,” he continued. “I didn’t think I’d ever seen someone so beautiful. I told her he was fine, that he’d only sustained a few cuts, then she asked if we could use another set of hands. It just…kind of grew from there.”

He paused to stir the fire again, tossing in a few more twigs.

“Before we knew it, she was having our son, Odin. I’d never been happier, and I prayed things would stay that way,” he gulped, his voice hitching slightly. “They didn’t.”

Mrs. Brisby gasped softly, her fingers tightening on his cape.

“What happened?”

He shrugged, then his shoulders slumped.

“I came home one day to find Odin’s crib toppled; he was lying on the ground, screaming. It was another month before we found Alice. She-” he choked, his voice breaking again. He cleared his throat. “She’d been strangled. We still have no idea who was responsible.”

“Oh, Justin,” she sniffled, hugging him. “I-I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked-”

“It’s okay,” he put an arm around her. “It happened years ago.”

Mrs. Brisby turned back toward the fire, content to listen to the flames crackle as they danced in their stone circle. She soon found herself reflecting on what had happened since Jonathan’s death, how there’d been a whole life he had never spoken a word to her about.

As much as it had angered her at first, the fact he’d kept such a huge secret from her, it was easy to see why he had done so. She couldn’t imagine how difficult it must have been for him, living with the fact she would die long before he grew old, that their children would be outcasts if the truth ever got out.

_ That won’t happen now,  _ she promised herself. She would do anything to make sure her children lived the fullest lives they could, even if it meant returning to the farm on her own when spring arrived. She’d make sure they never had to burden themselves with such huge secrets.

“Mrs. Brisby?”

She jumped slightly. Her arms were still wrapped around Justin’s waist, his draped across her shoulders. Her ears burning, she pulled away, curling into herself much like he had earlier.

“S-Sorry,” she whispered softly. “I-I was just thinking…”

“About what?” he crossed his legs, leaning back on his arms. She toyed with the edge of his cape a moment before answering.

“My children deserve more than I, or the farm, could ever give them,” she swallowed. Saying the words out loud was even harder than she’d thought it would be. “I…I want them to stay in Thorn Valley.”

Justin stared at her, no doubt surprised by her bluntness. He glanced back at the children, glad to see they were all still sleeping soundly.

“But, what about you?” he turned back to her. She shook her head.

“I’ll go back to the farm,” she said. “I don’t belong with you.”

“Of course you do,” he put a hand on her shoulder, his thumb lightly brushing her cheek. “You’re as much a part of our colony as your children are, and you’re just as welcome to stay.”

_ And I don’t think I could bear it if we had to be apart again… _ he bit his tongue to keep the words back. Where had they even come from? She gazed at him, suddenly so beautiful in the warm, flickering light of the fire.

“D-Do you really mean that?” she asked softly. He smiled.

“Of course I do,” it turned into a playful smirk. “Provided you do something for me first.”

He took his hand away from her shoulder, brushing her cheek one last time.

“Will you tell me your first name?”

“Oh,” she blushed when she realized she hadn’t yet. “It’s Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth,” he repeated it slowly, loving how the syllables flowed past his lips. “Beautiful, it suits you.”

She smiled wistfully.

“It was the first thing Jonathan gave to me,” she whispered. “After he saved me from Dragon.”

Justin chuckled.

“I remember when he came back to the rosebush that night,” he started. “He spent hours talking about the amazing girl he’d met, how he was already planning to marry her.”

She giggled. Jonathan had been very enthusiastic about their courtship, filling their days with happiness and their nights with romance. One of her favorite memories was when he’d proposed to her, after taking her on a trip downstream one perfect summer afternoon, to the most beautiful field of wildflowers. He’d waited until sunset, surprising her with a ring he’d made from a tiny buttercup. It hadn’t been until she was pregnant with Martin that she’d realized it had taken her less than a month to fall in love with him.

“I still miss him,” she said sadly. “I think part of me always will.”

“It’s the same with me and Alice,” he agreed. He looked back to the children. Cynthia had dropped her doll again, Timothy curled up in a ball next to her. Martin appeared to be muttering something, his face in a scowl. Teresa’s hair ribbon had come loose, a messy pile on the floor next to her; she’d pulled the makeshift blanket tightly over her mouth. Jonathan had done the same thing sometimes, when he fell asleep thinking about something important. “We should get some sleep, too, if we want to get an early start tomorrow.”

She nodded, hiding a delicate yawn with her hand. What time was it?

“There’s only one other bed,” he went on. “I could sleep by the fire, if you’d rather not...”

It took her a moment to realize what he meant.

“Oh, no, it’s fine, Justin,” she assured him hurriedly. “It’s cold, and it is just for one night.”

He still seemed hesitant.

“As long as you’re sure.”


	4. Chapter 4

“There it is!”

Timothy laughed excitedly, pointing toward the long, narrow space between two jagged mountain peaks. This early, with the sun only halfway above the horizon, the morning mists had yet to disperse, soaking the valley in an air of mystery. Justin had awoken them just after dawn, Teresa and Cynthia begging to ride with him as their brothers had done the day before. Martin, of course, had protested noisily, Timothy arguing that it was only fair. The older mouse had eventually given in, nevertheless grumbling to himself as he climbed to sit behind his mother. It wasn’t until then she’d noticed how tall he’d gotten, her head hitting his chin as they once again climbed above the clouds.

_ I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this… _

She bit back a cry as the birds suddenly dropped, the ground speeding toward them. She could hear the children cheering wildly, a quick glimpse to the side telling her even Justin was laughing. The ravens pulled up just before they would’ve crashed into the fields, gliding to a smooth stop before a high cliff. A tall, dark-furred youth waited for them, clad in a long-sleeved white shirt and light blue vest, a paler version of Justin’s old guard uniform.

She felt herself be pushed forward as Martin shifted behind her, freeing the half of their small bags tied behind them. He gathered them in his arms before slipping to the ground, turning around to help her and Timothy. As her oldest son’s grip steadied her, she couldn’t help but notice how much Martin looked like his father, and he seemed to have inherited Jonathan’s strength as well.

She looked over to Timothy, who was still scarcely taller than her. He was also as slim as a willow, his eyes shining with a curious intelligence that rivaled his father’s. She couldn’t believe how fast they were growing up, a pain forming in her heart when she realized she’d soon be leaving them. She forced it back, though, intending to make this trip as memorable as possible.

“Mom?”

She jumped, shaking away her daze. Timothy was staring at her, looking expectant. She blushed.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she said. “What were you saying?”

He shook his head.

“I didn’t say anything, you just looked like you were spacing out again.”

It had been a growing problem since she’d met the rats. Her sentences trailing off in the middle, food burning on the stove, more than one needle stick as she fitted the children for new clothes. She wondered if learning everything she had was the only culprit, or if her age was finally starting to show itself. Either way, the spells were beginning to frighten her, and she hoped the rats would have some way to stop them. Or to at least help her cope with them.

“I was wondering why you needed those birds, Dad.”

She turned to see the young guard strolling toward them, pushing a shock of hair from his incredible blue eyes. His fur pattern was a darker version of Justin’s, his build slightly bulkier. Justin smiled, clasping his son’s hand before pulling him into a hug.

“You thought I wouldn’t invite the Brisby family to stay here?” he asked. His son laughed.

“I’m just surprised you didn’t do it sooner,” he turned to the family of mice gathered behind his father, offering a dazzling smile. “He’s been going on and on about you since we got here.”

The children laughed, Justin rolling his eyes as they followed after his son.

“Anything happen while I was gone, Odin?”

“Other than Ages almost blowing himself up again? Nothing, really.”

The colony’s tunnels had been carved directly into the cliff; Mrs. Brisby could only imagine how much work it had taken. Just how long had they been planning to leave the farm? Along with glass-paned windows, a small niche was carved every other foot, holding a tiny light bulb.

“We haven’t really gotten our electrical grid up and running yet,” Odin explained to them. “So for now, we rely mostly on sunlight. We’re hoping to get it working before winter arrives, if not earlier.”

“How do you generate electricity?” Timothy asked. Odin smiled again.

“We’ve got a series of solar panels on top of the cliff,” he said. “They’re connected to wires that run straight down to our generators, and we’re able to use the excess even when there’s no sunlight.”

Timothy looked at the rounded ceiling overhead, his eyes wide in wonder at the thought.

“Wow…”

“Of course, solar isn’t the only kind of energy we’re going after,” Odin continued. “Right now, we’ve got people working on wind and hydro turbines as well.”

“Hydro?” Cynthia piped up. Odin nodded.

“If a river’s fast and deep enough, we can use the current to create power. All it takes is a paddle wheel connected to the generators.”

Mrs. Brisby marvelled at all the rats had been able to accomplish. Her children grew more eager with every wonder Odin showed them, a life so far beyond the simple ones they lived on the farm. This valley was where they truly belonged, a place where they could live openly, with no worry of what others might think of them. Mr. Ages had brought up the idea of bringing them with him when he’d left, saying it would benefit them to live the way their father had, to learn and see more than they’d ever thought possible. She’d balked at the idea, of course, saying they were too young, that they could decide to go for themselves when they were older.

Looking back, she realized how selfish she had been. She’d still been hurt and upset that Jonathan had lied to her. She was ashamed to admit part of her had wanted nothing more to do with the rats, despite how much they’d sacrificed to help her family. It hadn’t been until recently that she’d admitted to herself she wanted to go to Thorn Valley as much as they did, if not more so. Even if she wasn’t one of them, she could still be there for her children, to support and comfort them in ways the rats couldn’t.

“Elizabeth?”

She looked up to see Justin had stopped in front of her, the rest of the group going on ahead. She cleared her throat, embarrassed she’d let herself fall so far behind. He knelt to her level, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “I overheard Tim talking about how you’ve been ‘spacing out’ recently.”

She shook her head.

“It’s nothing, Justin,” she forced out a nervous laugh. “I-I’m just a bit overwhelmed, that’s all.”

She could tell he didn’t believe her, his fingers tightening slightly on her shoulder. She sighed, bowing her head.

“It’s just that…” she searched for words. “I’m just so…different from my children. They’re curious about things I could never begin to understand, much less explain to them. They deserve so much more than I could ever give them, and I wanted to deny them that opportunity because I was afraid they’d come to resent me for being a ‘lower creature’.”

She leaned forward, resting her head on his chest.

“I’m terrified of losing them,” she went on, her voice becoming choked. “But I feel like that’s the only way they’ll--”

“Hey, now,” he pulled her away, gazing at her. “Nothing could ever make them resent you, and you’re no different than any of us. You understand things we never will, things your children are just as eager to learn about.”

He paused, brushing a stray tear from her cheek.

“Things like courage, selflessness, how to get Ages to agree to help you.”

She giggled at that, making him smile. Her light, shy laugh really was lovely.

“Thank you, Justin,” she put a hand over his, looking up at him. “I guess I just needed to hear that.”

His smile widened.

“Any time, Elizabeth.”

* * *

Timothy set his bag next to his bed, one of four spaced out in the large room. His legs ached from all the walking they’d done, Odin having taken them everywhere he could. He turned to his siblings, Cynthia and Martin already curled up under their covers, Teresa brushing out her hair like she always did before bed. He walked toward her, swallowing nervously.

“Uh, T-Teresa?”

“Yeah, Tim?” she turned to him, brushing her bangs to the side. He swallowed again.

“D-Do you think we…made a mistake?” he asked. “You know, in coming here?”

She looked at him, setting her brush on her pillow.

“What do you mean?”

He rubbed the back of his neck.

“I-I just feel like it’s all too much for Mom. What if she can’t handle it?”

“Oh, Tim,” she swung her feet off the bed. “Mother’s wanted to come here just as badly as we have. And she was in the rats’ colony on the farm. She handled that just fine, so what makes you think she wouldn’t be able to now?”

“I...I don’t know,” he looked away. “I-It’s just this feeling I have. Something bad’s going to happen because we came here, and I think she and Justin are going to be right in the middle of it.”

She looked at him.

“Your ‘feelings’ have been wrong before, Tim,” she said at last. He rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, but they’ve also been  _ right _ before,” he insisted. “I just don’t think we should stay here for too long!”

“Ugh, will you two pipe down already?”

Martin half sat up, rubbing one eye and glaring sleepily at them. Cynthia, who could sleep through a hurricane, was still out cold. Teresa grinned sheepishly.

“Sorry, Martin,” she said. “Tim’s just worried about something. We’ll try to keep it down.”

“Worried about what?” he sat up fully. “Like when he predicted that mudslide?”

She shook her head.

“It’s nothing, Martin,” she assured him. “And he didn’t ‘predict’ anything. A blind mouse could’ve seen that coming.”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“It’s nothing, Martin,” she repeated more forcefully. She turned to Timothy. “We’ve had a big day. Let’s just go to sleep and forget about it.”

Tim opened his mouth to protest, snapping it shut when her eyes narrowed. He gulped.

“Y-Yeah, like she said, it’s nothing,” he turned, walking quickly to his bed. “Let’s just all get some sleep!”

Martin looked at them both, then shrugged, flopping down and turning his back to the room. In a couple minutes he was already snoring. Teresa blew out her candle, slipping under her covers as Tim scrambled under his.

_ His ‘feelings’ aren’t real,  _ she assured herself.  _ They’re just a fairytale. _

* * *

Elizabeth fumbled with the collar of her nightgown, not used to wearing such things. Justin had set her family up in his spare rooms, saying they would’ve been used for storage or stayed empty otherwise. She looked up at him, standing at the stove in a long shirt with short sleeves, her eyes locking on the scar that sliced across his arm. She swallowed.

“Justin...I’m so sorry.”

He stopped, turning to her.

“What do you have to be sorry for?”

“E-Everything,” she looked back at the table. “I-If I hadn’t come to see you, Nicodemus wouldn’t be dead, and you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

He moved the pot when it started to boil, pouring the hot water into a teapot. He added a few spoonfuls of leaves before putting the lid on, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard.

“There’s a lot more to it than that, Elizabeth,” he turned, leaning against the counter. “If you hadn’t come to us, there’s a good chance Tim would be dead, and so would most of the colony.”

He brought the mugs and teapot to the table, sitting down across from her.

“You saved so many lives, and unlocked the power Jonathan always meant for you.”

He set a small strainer on one of the mugs, filling it with the fresh tea and passing it to her.

“I know,” she took the mug, staring down into it. Her amber-tinted reflection looked sadly back at her. “But... _ why  _ did he want me to have that stone? How was he so sure I could use it?”

He shrugged, swirling the tea in his mug.

“He always said he could see it every time he looked at you, that you had courage you didn’t know about,” he trailed off, clearing his throat. “He and Nicodemus created the Stone years ago, but I don’t think it had a purpose until he met you, when he realized it could help you unlock what was always there.”

He sipped his tea, peering at her over the rim. She’d gone stiff as a statue, her eyes still locked on the cup clasped tightly in her hands. He could barely make out the swirling scars from where the Stone had burned her, as much a reminder of that horrible night as his own. He set his mug down, reaching across the table, taking her slim wrist.

“Elizabeth?”

She jumped, looking up at him like she’d just realized he was there. Her cheeks reddened, her ears flattening against her head. She moved away from his touch, taking the smallest sip of her tea before setting the cup aside.

“I’m beginning to think something else happened when I used that stone,” she said at last, her voice soft. “I never lost track of myself until then, a-and a few more things have happened that I don’t understand.”

He sat back, running a claw along the handle of his mug.

“How do you mean?”

She shook her head.

“I can’t explain it,” she started. “I-I’ve just felt...odd, like I’ve forgotten something, but I can never remember what it is.”

He cocked his head thoughtfully.

“And none of this happened before you used the Stone?”

“Not nearly this often. At first, I thought it would pass, but it’s only gotten worse,” she took a short, shuddering breath. “I-It’s starting to frighten me, Justin, and the children. I-I don’t know what to do…”

Her hands slipped into her lap, her tears glinting in the firelight. He went around to her side of the table, kneeling next to her and putting a hand on her shoulder.

“How about we head to the infirmary in the morning?” he asked. “Ages and our other doctors will look you over, and we’ll see if we can’t start unravelling this mystery.”

She sniffled quietly, looking up at him. The fire made his dark eyes glint, his soft touch reminding her so much of the man she had lost. That quickly, the grief she thought she’d left behind came flooding back, pushing her into his arms, clutching his nightshirt as she sobbed brokenly into it.

“Oh, Justin…” her words were choked. “I-I don’t know what to do!”

His arms slipped around her, his voice whispering past her ears.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said. “You’re not alone in this, and you never were.”

She sniffled, a sweet warmth stirring when she saw his smile, kind and reassuring, and she settled back against his chest, the firm, quick pace of his heart soon lulling her to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning was clear and chilly, the stone halls bustling with all kinds of activity. The last of the crops and much of the valley’s wild fruit had been harvested the day before, the extra kitchen staff hard at work preparing it all to be canned, dried or smoked. The seamstress’ hall was busy as well, patching up gently worn vests, shirts and capes or sewing new ones to replace those that had become threadbare. There were even candle makers at work, building a stockpile of the beeswax sticks in case the power failed, which, with the heavy snow that came in the later winter months, was a high possibility. Elizabeth and the children had spent the day wandering, most of the rats grateful for any help they’d been able to offer. There were a few who’d refused, either because the job was too dangerous for mice or they didn’t trust the small group of newcomers, despite their leader’s reassurances.

Justin had already been gone when they’d woken up, but had been kind enough to leave a hearty breakfast out for them. He’d also left a note, explaining that they were ahead of schedule and that he wanted to keep it that way, so it was likely they wouldn’t see him until they all returned to his rooms that night. He was much more involved than Nicodemus had been, their former leader having been too frail to leave his chambers for long. Elizabeth had thought about going to the infirmary like they’d discussed, deciding that she’d lived with it this long, it could wait until things had calmed down a bit.

She knotted the thread and snipped off the excess, sticking her needle in the pincushion on her wrist. It was only the fourth jumper she’d finished, but at least it was something.

“Your stitches are so small and solid,” a white rat to her left commented. She was slender and pretty, her green eyes clear and bright. She held up the cape she’d been hemming, her own stitchwork even, though not quite as discreet. “My name’s Annabella.”

“I’m Elizabeth,” she smiled, struggling a bit to fold the dark orange jumper and setting it in her basket, reaching for another set of pieces she’d pinned earlier, this time a pale, sweet pink. Annabella nodded, sewing as she talked.

“Everyone knows who you are, Lizzy,” she said. “I wasn’t there when you used the Stone, but a lot of rats who were are still going on about how incredible it was!”

Elizabeth blushed. She’d already met more than one of her admirers, though she didn’t have much of an idea on how to react to all the attention.

“I’m honestly not sure what happened,” she admitted, threading her needle again. She still had four more that she planned to finish today. “I just wanted to save my children.”

“And that’s likely what caused the Stone to wake up,” Anna returned, finishing the cape and snipping the extra thread. She stood up to shake it out, folding it neatly and tucking it in her own basket. “You were willing to go into all that mud to save them, even though it meant possibly losing your life in the process. That, and you warned us that NIMH was coming, despite Jenner’s threats.”

Elizabeth shuddered, jabbing herself in the thumb with her needle, yet another thing that had happened more often since that night.

“I know, and I’m grateful for everything you all did for me, even if it ended with you losing Nicodemus,” she still felt a twinge of sadness when she thought about the kind, wise old rat, despite having known him for less than a day. “But things have just been so different since then, I-I don’t know what-”

“Oooh, it’s him!” Anna squealed excitedly, her blush hard to miss. Elizabeth turned to see Justin had come in, flashing a warm smile to the room before going to speak with the head seamstress. She’d noticed it in the rosebush, how many females in the colony seemed to fawn over him, no matter their age. Though from what she’d heard, it didn’t go far beyond physical attraction with some of them.

There was no denying how handsome he was, with his dark eyes, charming smile and soft fur, but there was also so much more to him. A sharp mind, an easy wit and a warm, open heart. He was also brave and selfless, always ready to talk, but also willing and able to fight if he needed to.

“Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be his girlfriend,” Anna sighed, resting her chin in her hands, her eyes sparkling as she watched him. In his dark shirt and vest, he did cut an imposing figure, and there was something about the way he moved, so fluid, yet strong. “I doubt he’ll ever pick one of us, though, he’s still devoted to Alice…”

Elizabeth felt her heart sink a bit. Alice, Justin’s late wife, who’d been murdered before their son had even learned how to crawl, and he still had no idea who’d been responsible. She understood his pain all too well, the promise she’d made to Jonathan, that she’d always love him, no matter how long passed. Her grief had made it easy, but now she wasn’t so sure she’d be able to keep it.

“Lizzy?” Anna clutched her shoulder. “Come on, snap out of it!”

Elizabeth jumped, her small pair of scissors clattering to the floor. When had she even picked them up?

“I can finish these for you,” Anna grabbed a piece of cloth from the scraps basket between them. “I don’t know what happened just now, but you should get this looked at.”

She stared down at her hand at the rat bound it, her eyes widening when she saw the jagged cut along her palm.

“W-What on Earth?” she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. How could that have happened?

“I was just looking for you, Elizabeth,” Justin came up to their shared table, his jaw tensing slightly when he saw her wound. “And it seems it’s a good thing I did.”

He helped her down from the high stool, keeping a gentle hand on her back as he led her from the room. She barely paid attention, staring at the hand she held in front of her, fear welling in her stomach as she wondered what else she could have done without even realizing it.

“Are you alright, Elizabeth?”

She blinked, then looked up at him, gasping softly when she saw the worry in his eyes, a rich, deep brown that would be so easy to lose herself in, were it not for two simple facts. He was still devoted to his late wife, just as she was to Jonathan.

_ But can it really be that way forever? _

* * *

“The cut’s pretty shallow,” Irene, Mr. Ages’ top apprentice, assured them. Elizabeth hissed at the sting of the antiseptic, the budding doctor setting the swab aside before reaching for a small roll of bandages. “You’ll just have to change the dressing for the next two or three days, then it should be fine to heal on its own.”

She carefully wrapped the mouse’s palm, then snipped the end, tying it expertly off.

“Now, is there anything else I can help you with today?”

Elizabeth started to shake her head, wanting only to get back to work, the last thing she wanted was to feel like a burden.

“There is, actually,” Justin put a firm hand on her shoulder, cocking a brow as he caught her gaze. “The old goat wouldn’t happen to be around, would he?”

Irene giggled, a light dusting of pink beneath her gray fur.

“He’s gone out with Bryn and Wayne to pick herbs,” she explained. “He wants to get as many as he can before the frost hits in a few days.”

“Already?” Elizabeth flexed her hand, wincing lightly in pain. It wasn’t as bad as the burns after she’d used the Stone, but the sore stiffness was still far from pleasant. Irene nodded.

“We’re much further north,” she explained. “And we’re up in the mountains, so winter moves in a lot faster than it does at the farm.”

She gathered her supplies and got to her feet, arranging them back on their shelves or in their drawers before preparing a small paper packet, passing it to Elizabeth.

“Mix a spoonful of this with water and smooth it on the wound before you wrap it again,” she advised. “And I can tell Ages that you want to talk to him when he gets back, though I’m not sure how long it’ll be before he can see you.”

“That’s fine,” Elizabeth spoke up before Justin could, holding the packet to her chest as she hopped lightly to the floor. “I know how stressful all of this is, it can wait.”

She smiled at Irene.

“Thank you for your help, if there’s any way I can-”

Irene shook her head.

“Just doing my job, Mrs. Brisby,” she assured. “And besides, you and your family have already helped us quite a bit.”

She knew Irene wasn’t just talking about the harvesting and sewing. Nodding shyly, she thanked the rat once more before heading out, starting when Justin gripped her arm again.

“I’m not going to let you get out of talking about this,” he said firmly, his eyes darting to her cut. “Especially after you’ve just injured yourself.”

She pulled away from him.

“I just don’t want to be a burden to anyone,” she said, unable to meet his gaze. “I-It can wait until things have calmed down…”

Clutching the packet to her chest, she made to hurry off, only for him to once more grab hold of her.

“Justin!” she looked up at him, gasping softly. She didn’t think she’d ever seen that much worry in his eyes, or fear. He knelt down, shifting his grip until her small hand rested in the palm of his, a small shiver shooting through her as he tenderly traced the lines of her bandage.

“I know you think it’s too much to ask,” he started softly. “But you have to know I’m only insisting because you’re important to me, and to your children. I don’t want to risk something even worse happening.”

She just stood there, looking blankly up at him, her heart starting to race the longer he held her hand, now clasped lightly between his larger ones. She swallowed, her mouth going dry when he leaned down, brushing the barest kiss across her knuckles.

“Promise me you’ll see Ages as soon as you can,” he looked up at her again, his eyes darker than ever in the gleam of the wall lamps. His grip tightened slightly. “Promise me, Elizabeth.”

Her breath shuddered as she pulled it in through her teeth, and she could feel the blush starting to burn in her ears. Before she realized it, she found herself nodding, the heat only getting worse when he cast her a grateful smile.

“Thank you.”

* * *

Timothy and Teresa were helping make candles, Martin and Cynthia having gone out with the groups sent to forage, on the promise they’d stay within sight of the others. Besides the berry brambles in the mountains, the valley was home to apple, lemon and peach trees, along with several types the rats had planted while constructing the colony’s tunnels: fig, walnut and almond. Elizabeth had decided it would be best for her to return to Justin’s rooms, not trusting herself with most tasks after what had happened in the seamstress’ hall. Instead, she’d selected a book from Justin’s impressive personal library, the shelves taking up almost an entire wall of his main living space, on either side of a simple, yet elegant stone fireplace. Most of the handbound volumes were copies of human books, though there were several that had been written by various members of the colony, ranging in subject from architecture to fantasy, some with incredible illustrations done in ink.

After the rats had left, she’d become obsessed with improving her reading skills, and had even started to practice her writing, after the chores were done and the children were in bed. She’d planned on impressing Justin by sending him her own letter, despite having never figured out just how she would’ve sent it to him. The few her family had gotten from him had been delivered by a sparrow, the little bird always hopping about impatiently as the children had taken turns reading, working together to write out a response. They’d always asked what she wanted to add, of course, but it just didn’t compare to being able to do so herself.

She looked up when the door opened, her ears burning slightly when Justin came in, unclasping the dark blue cape from his shoulders, hanging it carefully from one of several hooks on the wall. His method of dress hadn’t changed much since becoming leader: a navy vest without the signature red line of a guard’s uniform, his shirt a warm gray instead of pale yellow, the black belt still tied around his lean hips. She wondered if he always wore the cape, or if it were just for the colder months.

“How’s your hand doing?” he asked, still sounding a bit worried. She closed the slightly oversized book in her lap and set it aside, clasping her hands together to keep them from shaking.

“It’s fine,” she said, keeping her gaze on them. She dragged in a breath to steady herself. “But I figured it’d be better for me to rest for a bit, until it’s healed.”

He nodded, heading past her into the small kitchen.

“I would’ve asked you to do the same thing,” he admitted, grabbing the teapot from its place beside the stove. “I have a few more things to finish here, but I thought I’d make some cocoa first, if you wanted some.”

She shook her head. She’d had chocolate before, when Jonathan had brought some home with him, now she knew from the rosebush, and had gotten sick whenever she had tried it.

“No, thank you,” she started, reaching for the book again. “It’s never agreed with me, I’m just trying to get some reading practice in.”

He filled the pot with water, leaving it by the sink instead of putting it on the stove. He came over, sitting beside her on the couch, looking at the book she’d chosen.

“The Wind in the Willows,” he intoned easily, running his fingers down one of the handwritten pages. “This was Odin’s favorite when he was little, it was the only thing that would put him to sleep.”

He sighed, no doubt remembering the wife he’d lost, the mother their son had never known. She put a hand over his, still resting on the page, worn and slightly yellowed from years of use.

“I know Alice is still watching over you,” she said. “Just like Jonathan is with the children and I, and they’ll always be with us.”

He looked at her, a small, grateful smile gracing his face. She smiled back, pressing her hand closer to his before pulling away, having to stand on her toes to place the book back on the shelf.

“I’m going to check on the children, then I’ll see if Mr. Ages is free.”

He smiled again, getting up and going back to the small kitchen.

“I’m sure he’ll be able to help you with this,” he assured her. “But even if he can’t, he should at least be able to find out why it’s been happening.”

She hesitated before nodding, adjusting her cape as she made her way to the door. After she’d left, he realized he’d followed her every move, admiring the new poise and confidence she carried herself with. It was also hard to ignore the warmth that lingered in his fur, where she’d taken his hand in comfort and understanding, a sensation he’d missed so much since Alice’s death.

_ She lost Jonathan,  _ he reminded himself.  _ Of course she would understand. _

He shook his head to clear it, then got up and headed back to his office, leaving the pot of cold cocoa sitting forgotten on the small kitchen counter.   
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, this finally gets another chapter! The best part is I know almost exactly how I want the story to go from here, though again, I have no idea just how long it'll take to finish. I do plan on updating whenever I can though.

Timothy couldn’t sleep. The feeling in the back of his mind wouldn’t go away, telling him that something was about to happen, something that would change all of their lives forever. He’d gotten it before: the night his father had died, the day his mother had met the rats, and now that they were here, in Thorn Valley, it seemed to be telling him they’d never make it home. He wasn’t sure what to think of it yet, even with it bothering him since he’d woken up that morning, but he was sure it would turn out to be true, too, as much as Teresa doubted him.

 _I can’t tell if it’s good or bad, though,_ he turned, staring out the window. The sky was clear and the stars were out. He gasped quietly when one shot by, and he quickly made a wish, one he’d made every night since he’s learned his father was never coming home. _I wish we could be happy forever, no matter what it takes!_

He smiled, then snuggled further under the covers, hoping the warmth and softness would help finally lull him to sleep. But all it did was make him think about their cinderblock on the farm, the large knothole in the forest by the river that served as their summer home, how almost primitive they both were compared to this place. The tunnels glowed with electricity, there was no reason to carry in water by the bucketful, no cats, owls, humans or farming plows to run and hide from. There were also no animals who gave them rude, mean or just plain dirty looks, no one treating them like outsiders because of who their father was.

At the farm, and on the river, they were freaks, but here, among the rats their father had escaped with, they were normal. Here, they could grow up around mammals like them: slowed aging, more intelligence, abilities almost no one could explain. Here, they could all just be themselves.

But what about their mother? She had warned the rats about the scientists coming, giving them enough time to escape the jaws of death, had been able to harness incredible power, but she was sorely out of place here. He didn’t want to stay if it meant she’d be unhappy, even though she’d likely insist they do when she went back to the farm in the spring.

Though now that he thought about it, that didn’t seem quite right. It felt more like this one was specifically about their mother, that her life was going to change more than any of his siblings’, or the rats’. He still couldn’t tell if it would be good or bad, so he decided to think more on it before telling anyone, especially her. It would only make her worry, and then she’d never be able to enjoy herself or relax, which she sorely deserved after everything she had gotten them through.

 _I can’t tell if I want this one to be wrong or not,_ he closed his eyes, shutting out the sky, window and stars. It seemed like he’d just have to force himself to sleep tonight. _Guess I’ll just have to see what happens…_

* * *

Justin was at a loss. Not only was Elizabeth putting off talking to Ages, but now he couldn’t stop feeling that there was something else she was hiding from him. When had she become so secretive?

 _She must not want to worry the children,_ he thought, straightening his collar before reaching for his formal crimson cape. There was a full council meeting this morning, regarding the proposed changes to the farming plans for next spring. He brushed some lint from the fine fabric, his fingers brushing over the gleaming scarlet surface of the Stone. He’d tried more than once, in secret of course, to awaken its power, wanting to gain an understanding of what Elizabeth was going through, but no matter what he did, it slept on, making him wonder if he were truly as brave as everyone thought him to be.

 _Jon created it for her,_ he reminded himself. _It’s no wonder it doesn’t work for anyone else._

He ran a comb through his hair, then headed out, surprised to see Elizabeth on the sofa, her dainty nose buried in a slim volume with a blue-green cover. She jumped when she realized he was there, blushing furiously when it tumbled to the floor. He knelt down and collected it for her, smiling when he saw it was one of the books he’d had made when Odin was first learning to read: _Summer of the Sea_.

“Seems you’ve found a new hobby,” he passed it back to her, their fingers briefly touching when she took it. The blush remained as she held the oversized thing to her chest. Her cut hand was still covered, though she hadn’t been mindful of caring for it, by the state of her bandage. She cleared her throat as he stood, and he felt her gaze when he went to the medicine cabinet on the wall of his small kitchen.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” she said, her voice softer and more timid than usual. “But reading has been...easier, since I used the Stone, though I don’t understand how its power could affect me that way.”

He shrugged, sitting beside her after placing his supplies on the coffee table, taking her bandaged hand in both of his. He unwrapped it tenderly, breathing through his teeth when he saw the angry red skin, and she hissed when he pressed a scrap of gauze to the wound, to try and drain the clear fluid seeping from it.

“Nicodemus was the only one Jonathan would accept help from, when it came to creating it,” he kept up the pressure a moment longer, until a small amount of blood appeared. “And he’d never reveal anything about it to the rest of us. He may have written about it somewhere, but I haven’t been able to find anything.”

He applied the antiseptic, making a mental note to stop by the infirmary after the meeting, then cut a length of fresh bandage. He tied it off and tucked the ends neatly beneath.

“Of course, I haven’t had much time to search since we arrived, and I doubt we’ll be fully settled any time soon, since we came ahead of schedule.”

He held her hand between his, her eyes glittering as she gazed at him. Justin cleared his throat again, then gathered the supplies and returned them to the medicine cabinet.

“I have a council meeting this morning,” he went on, suddenly feeling overheated. “But I should be free this afternoon, and don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve been avoiding talking to Ages.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and she coughed, soon falling into a fit. He was back at her side in a second, his eyes narrowed as he held a hand to her forehead.

“Damn it, you’re burning up,” he brushed the back of his finger over her cheek. “And I don’t like the sound of that cough, either.”

He picked her up before she could protest, pulling her own ragged cape more tightly around her when she started to shiver in the corridor. How could he have missed that she was so ill? She was so tense against his chest, trying to push away from him.

“Justin, what are you doing?” she demanded quietly. “Let go of me!”

“No,” he returned simply, gazing down at her. “You let that wound get infected and now it sounds like you have pneumonia, I’m not going to let you keep neglecting yourself like this.”

She kept still after that, likely shocked at his bluntness. He sighed silently in relief when he saw Ages in the infirmary, setting a pale gray boy’s wrist in a sling.

“Keep it immobilized, Austin,” the old mouse was saying. “We don’t need a repeat of last time.”

Austin nodded, grabbing his jacket and dipping his head in respect as he passed his leader. Justin waited until the door had closed before approaching the mouse, setting Elizabeth on a bed and keeping a firm grip on her shoulder. Ages started a bit at the anger on her face, but he shook it off quickly.

“What’s the problem?” he came over, crossing his arms impatiently.

“The cut on Elizabeth’s hand has gotten infected,” Justin answered, gazing pointedly down at her. “And I found out this morning that she’s developed a bad cough as well.”

Ages rolled his eyes and picked up the stethoscope around his neck.

“Bronchitis is going around this year,” he said simply, holding the cool metal disc to Elizabeth’s chest, though even Justin could hear the soft rasping of her uneven breaths. “Though it seems you’ve contracted pneumonia, Mrs. Brisby.”

Elizabeth looked up at Justin, who just gazed pointedly back. She sighed, clearing her throat as she turned to Mr. Ages.

“There’s been a few other things as well,” she began softly. “I’ve been forgetting things more than i ever have and I randomly lose track of myself and what I’m doing, yes despite all of this, reading and even math have become easier for me.”

Justin’s ears perked forward, this was the first he’d heard of the math. Ages blinked a few times, then took off his glasses and shined them on his shirt.

“And when did all of this start?”

Elizabeth breathed deeply, then coughed.

“Right after I used the Stone on the farm.”

* * *

Mr. Ages paced restlessly in his lab, Justin assisting Irene with sorting dried herbs and the rest of their medical supplies. Elizabeth had been given her first dose of medicine, and was now asleep; it had been recommended that she stay there, at least until her fever broke.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” the white mouse muttered. “I was there when she unleashed that power, but there’s nothing to explain why its begun to affect her this way.”

“Jonathan did use some of his blood when he created it, didn’t he?” Irene asked. Justin nodded.

“Realizing he had mystic abilities was the catalyst behind him creating the Stone,” he held up the jewel around his neck, glinting carmine and amber in the tinted lights overhead. “He thought it would be a way for Elizabeth to protect their family, should anything happen to him.”

Jonathan had refused to utter a word of the project until he and Nicodemus had finished it, and even then, had only shared the knowledge of its existence with Justin and Mr. Ages, the two in the colony he trusted most after their late leader. Even so, rumors of it had still managed to trickle through the halls beneath the rosebush, and Jon had left it in the care of Nicodemus, knowing he had been the only one powerful enough to keep it safe and hidden. Justin didn’t want to think what would have happened if Jenner had managed to get his murderous hands on it.

“Maybe the DNA present in his blood entered Elizabeth’s when she used it,” Irene offered. “And now its reacting with her somehow?”

“It does make sense,” Justin said guardedly, then laid the jewel back on his vest. “But it still feels like something else is going on, like she’s keeping something from us.”

Irene fastened a roll of bandages and set it in a large chest of the floor.

“I’m sure she'll tell us eventually,” she assured him. “We just need to give her time.”

The last thing Justin wanted was to have to wait for answers, especially if it meant seeing Elizabeth in distress, but he knew there wasn’t much else they could do, especially now that she’d contracted such a dangerous illness.

“All right,” he said at last, getting to his feet and stretching his arms over his head. “I’ll let her recover from this before I bring up anything else, we can deal with the rest then.”

He went to the door separating the long, narrow storage room from the rest of the infirmary. Elizabeth was curled up on her side in one of the beds meant for children, and even from there, he could see the sweat dampening her fur, the sight of her ill making his chest ache.

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Irene put a hand on his shoulder, smiling gently. “She’ll be fine after some rest.”

He grinned faintly back.

“I know, it’s just…” he blew out a breath. He wasn’t sure how to explain it, the roiling in his gut that told him far worse than a bout with pneumonia, or their first winter in the valley, was on the horizon. “I have to meet with the council, I’ll come back to check on her soon.”

His gaze lingered on Elizabeth as he left, fighting the urge to just forget the council and stay at her side, knowing she'd tell him he had responsibilities beyond her.

 _She's the most selfless creature I've ever met,_ he thought, feeling warm as he finally tore his eyes away. She would be in the safest hands until he got back, he had no reason to worry. He swallowed hard, fixing his cape before taking off into the hall, barely remembering to keep the main door from slamming behind him. He'd have to block out the fear for now, finish with his duties for the day, then he could sit with her.

 _I'll have to tell the children,_ he realized, though he knew it would be a few days before they were allowed to see her. Their mother needed her rest. He paused again when he reached the great, carved oaken doors to the council chamber, letting out the breath he'd forgotten he'd been holding as he pressed his forehead to the wood. Elizabeth was going to be all right, then once she recovered, perhaps they could talk. He could tell her about all the other ways Jon had helped the colony, the hilarious stunts he had pulled on the council, how she was the most beautiful creature either of them had ever laid eyes on.

 _No,_ he shook his head, his jaw clenched as he forced the thoughts back. That could not be allowed to happen. He sighed again, then pushed the door open, clearing his mind of distractions as his gaze fell on the half circle of rats waiting for him.  _She promised Jon, and I promised Alice..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I changed Justin's son's name and didn't even notice, but that's what happens when it takes so long to get ideas for this! XD


	7. Chapter 7

Timothy couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, and from the look on Martin’s face as he paced restlessly around their borrowed bedroom, he knew his brother felt it too.

“Something huge is going to happen soon, Tim,” he said, his voice cracking like it had been the past month. “I just know it.”

“I can’t stop thinking about it, either,” Timothy swung his feet, squirming on the edge of the oversized bed. “I don’t know if its just being here, or learning all that stuff about Dad…”

“I get why he hid all that stuff from Mom,” Martin stopped pacing, tapping his foot as he stared out the window. The first frost had come to the valley, and it wouldn’t be much longer before the colony was trapped in the stone hallways by blankets of crystal white snow. “But I really wish he hadn’t, we could have moved in with the rats a long time ago!”

Tim shook his head, then ran a hand through his hair, knotted and shaggy from the hours he spent mussing it in thought at the library. Odin hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said their scribes had managed to create hundreds of copies of human books, covering subjects he never could have dreamed of if they had stayed on the farm.

“But what about Mom?” he asked. “She told us how some of the rats reacted when she showed up at that council meeting. I doubt they would’ve wanted anything to do with us if Dad hadn’t opened that vent at NIMH.”

Their mother had told them the story several times since she’d learned the truth, then Justin had helped to fill in some of the gaps when they’d stopped in that tree for the night. The rat had also revealed what their mother had done the night their house had moved, which their mother had been so reluctant to share.

“What do you think’s going to happen?” Martin turned to him, arms crossed as he leaned back against the wall. Tim shrugged.

“I’m not getting anything specific this time,” he admitted. “I just know something really big is going to happen, I don’t think we’re done with NIMH yet.”

He jumped when Teresa scoffed loudly from the doorway.

“You’re too old to keep believing in fairy tales, Tim,” she said, flouncing into the room. She and Cynthia shared the one next door with their mother, but that didn’t stop her from barging in every night, looking like she was trying to find any reason to get him and Martin in trouble, or to cause it for them. “That’s all those silly little ‘feelings’ of yours are, fairy tales and coincidence.”

Martin snorted.

“At least we don’t still go looking for fairy circles and devil gardens,” he returned, glaring at their sister. He’d said more than once that she was starting to turn into Auntie Shrew, and Tim couldn’t disagree.

“Just because you can’t explain it doesn’t mean it’s not real,” Tim said without thinking, drawing back when Teresa stared at him.

“That’s exactly what it means, Timmy,” she said haughtily. “If you can’t collect physical evidence, then it doesn’t exist, plain and simple.”

Timothy groaned and fell over, burying his face in his pillow. The last thing he wanted right now was to get in another fight with her, or anybody for that matter.

“We don’t care what you think, Teresa,” Martin said. “And we don’t try to stop you, so why don’t you do us a favor and butt out of it?”

Tim cringed at the silence that followed, thick enough to cut with a knife, before their sister scoffed again and stormed out, shutting the door loudly behind her. A few seconds later, Martin sighed, the mattress shifting as he climbed up on it.

“Don’t let her get to you, Tim,” he said comfortingly, then cleared his throat. “She just deals with stuff differently than we do, she’ll chill out eventually.”

Tim groaned and sat up.

“That’s not what I’m worried about, Martin,” he shoved the hair from his eyes. “I’m scared she’ll do something stupid to prove it isn’t real, and that it’ll get us all in huge trouble.”

Martin swallowed, suddenly nervous.

“You don’t think that’s what it means this time, do you?” he asked. Tim shook his head.

“It’s too vague right now, you know how it works,” he went on. “It’ll be a while before it gets any clearer, if it ever does.”

Martin looked at him, then sighed again.

“We’ll just have to keep an eye on her then, Tim,” he decided. “Less chance she’ll get stuck in some crazy situation alone.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Tim rubbed the back of his neck, shivering slightly as his fingers drifted across the faded pair of scars from that spider bite, a lasting reminder that curiosity was just as much a vice as it was a virtue, just like stubbornness. He let out a breath, his hand dropping limply to his side. “I just hope we all get out of it this time…”

Martin leaned forward and gripped his shoulder.

“We will, Tim,” he flashed a sure half-smile. “We will.”

* * *

Elizabeth marvelled at the softness of the cape, the same crimson red as the tattered one Jonathan had given her so long ago, but whole and sewn from wonderfully thick fabric.

“Thank you, Anna,” she smiled gratefully, draping it over her shoulders and doing up the polished oak button at her throat. “Its beautiful.”

The white rat giggled.

“It was the least I could do, Lizzy, after everything you’ve done for us,” she started. “And you would’ve turned into a popsicle if you’d kept wearing that ragged old thing.”

She glanced at the cape laid out across the foot of the bed. After a week of rest and the rats’ superior medicine, Mr. Ages had decided Elizabeth was well enough to leave the infirmary, though he had advised against going outside for at least another two.

“I can patch this one up for spring, if you’d like,” Anna went on. “There’s not much more sewing to be done before winter finishes setting in, I’ll have all the time in the world until the thaw.”

The mouse smiled wistfully.

“Jonathan gave me that cape when we met,” she revealed. “I didn’t really know what clothes were before then, my parents were more worried about finding enough food and steering clear of the cat.”

Her parents had managed to die of old age, not long before that handsome gray and brown mouse had literally crashed into her life, and as he had loved saying, the rest was history. She let out a small sigh, then looked at her hand, the faded swirling scars from the Stone overlaid by the fresh one from her scissors. Why had she cut herself like that, how could she have missed picking them up, let alone causing that injury?

“Maybe your subconscious is trying to tell you something, Lizzy,” Anna spoke up, drawing the mouse back to reality. There was a small blush in the other female’s ears as she continued. “My parents would tell me that when I was little, all I had to do was puzzle it out.”

Elizabeth thought a moment. In a strange way, it did make sense, though she couldn’t begin to put her finger on why. Still, it was worth looking into, if it meant finding even the vaguest of answers, and she was sure she knew just where to start.

“Do you know where Justin is?” she climbed out of bed and straightened her new cape. It was slightly longer than her old one, easily keeping out the chill that drifted through the halls no matter how they tried to heat the place. She could feel her own ears burning slightly, but why? Anna nodded.

“He’s usually in the bathing area right about now,” she folded the other cape, draping it over her arm. “It’s pretty much the dead center of the colony.”

Elizabeth had seen the sign above the doors several times by now, though had never gone inside herself, preferring the private bathroom in Justin’s quarters. She followed Annabella to the hall and bid goodbye, heading off toward the common bathing area, her head spinning as she tried to ‘puzzle things out’ as the rat had suggested. Things such as reading, math and writing had been easier since she had used the Stone, but so had been losing herself, to the point she now had a scar that had resulted from her own actions. There had been a tangle of foreboding in the back of her mind since then as well, and she had overheard Martin and Timothy complaining of the same thing once they’d arrived at the colony. What could it all mean? What could possibly happen?

“Sweetheart, please,” a girl begged tearfully. “I miss you so much!”

Elizabeth hadn’t realized until then that she’d gotten lost, paying more attention to her thoughts than her steps. She stopped outside a pair of rich emerald curtains, drawn from an arched doorway and tied to the rock wall, peeking into a large room with a stage at one end. Her stomach twisted when she saw the beautiful pale gray rat, her amber eyes shining with tears, her delicate hands clutching the front of Justin’s vest desperately. Elizabeth wanted to flee, but the anger plastered across his face had her rooted to the spot, an anger she hadn’t glimpsed since Jenner had attacked her.

“It’s been over between us for years, Yasmin,” he grabbed the girl’s hands, shoving them off his chest. “And it’s going to stay that way.”

Yasmin shook her head, and Elizabeth realized how unkempt she looked: her fur was wild, her black dress ill-fitting, the fringe of hair at her brow cut unevenly. Her claws were dull, some of them crusted with blood from where she must have bitten to the quick.

“How could you hate me like this, Justin?” she demanded brokenly. “What did I do?”

Justin stared at her, then shoved out a breath, the ire fading from his face.

“You acted like I didn’t matter to you, like I was just a status symbol,” he stepped back from her. Elizabeth hadn’t thought him capable of looking so vulnerable. “But you refused to let go when I broke it off, even after I’d made it clear I was going to marry Alice, even after I’d accused you of her death.”

Elizabeth gasped, but neither rat heard her, as Yasmin broke down, falling to her knees.

“I’ve told you over and over how sorry I am, Justin,” she cried. “We were so young, I didn’t realize how much I wanted you, how much I loved you!”

She reached for him, nearly falling as she grabbed the hem of his vest.

“I’ve been begging so long for another chance,” she continued. “But all you’ve done is be cruel to me! You know I don’t deserve this! Please!”

Elizabeth shivered; there had only been one other rat who’d been this unstable, his face haunting her nightmares for weeks after the colony had left. Justin sighed again, taking Yasmin’s wrists as he knelt down, yet keeping his distance as he helped her to her feet.

“I just don’t feel that way about you anymore,” he said gently, yet firmly. “I can’t, after everything that’s happened. You’re only hurting yourself by believing otherwise.”

He put her hands back at her sides, then walked away, fists clenched and head low, his jaw tight as he stalked past Elizabeth. She glanced once at Yasmin, standing still as a statue, tears glinting in the dimmed lights overhead as they fell to the floor.

* * *

Justin stopped when he rounded the corner, leaning heavily against the wall as he rubbed a hand roughly over his face. Yasmin’s instabilities hadn’t meant anything when he’d gotten involved with her, just before they’d arrived at the Fitzgibbon farm. He’d thought the other males in the colony were just being cruel, but it hadn’t taken him long to learn that those vicious rumors had been the cold, hard truth. She was a living contradiction, flighty and flirty in public, bragging about how she was going to marry the future captain of the guard. In private, she had often accused him of lying about training for the post, that instead he was using those late nights to sleep around. She was the reason he’d gained a playboy’s reputation, that no one had believed he’d really marry Alice, even as the ceremony had begun. Several who’d always despised him had even claimed he was responsible for her death, and to this day there were whispers that he’d somehow used his post to get away with murder.

 _There’s nothing I can do,_ he reminded himself. They just didn’t wish to see what was right in front of them, needing someone to blame, rather than accepting that there would likely never be true answers.

“Justin?”

He nearly jumped at the small voice, sighing in relief when he saw Elizabeth. He did find it odd that she could soothe him so quickly, though figured it was the warm, caring nature that had drawn Jonathan to her. “I-I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I was heading for the bathing area and got a bit lost…”

He smiled slightly, putting a hand on her back as he led her down the tunnel.

“I’m sorry for not telling you about Yasmin,” he said. She touched his arm, smiling gently.

“It’s fine, Justin, I understand.”

He had to look away then, feeling his skin heat beneath his fur, his mind caught on how her eyes glimmered in the light of the hall, her small, slim fingers featherlight as they brushed across his wrist.

He cleared his throat, pulling his arm away when they reached the bathing area, a natural pool heated by steam. Elizabeth gasped softly as he opened one half of the arched doors, and he couldn’t suppress a smile--the large cavern, scattered with pillars and chandeliers of stone, was truly an incredible sight.

“We never expected to find this,” he explained, watching as she explored. The cavernous room was damp and misty, small bulbs cradled in natural crevices in the walls, filling it with warm, gentle light. He swallowed, his fingers tightening on the Stone. “Our engineers used it to develop our hydro turbines, though now they’re more focused on getting the solar panels installed before winter, it shouldn’t be too much longer.”

She looked around another moment before turning back to him, her expression awed and fascinated.

“I can’t believe you’ve managed to do all this so quickly, it’s incredible.”

He chuckled.

“I’m afraid it’s not as amazing as it sounds, we’d already been working on this place for a while, though we weren’t set to arrive until next spring.”

He followed her to the water’s edge, the current flowing from deep inside the caves making it lap gently at the lip of the pool, the floor gradually falling away beneath the clear surface. He was surprised when she took off her cape, draping it over a nearby bench before wading in, sighing softly as she sat on a small outcrop along the wall.

“How did you find the valley?” she asked, as he went to grab a pair of towels for them. “When did you decide you were going to settle here?”

“We always knew we couldn’t stay in the rosebush forever,” he undressed, laying his clothes neatly beside hers, his ears burning as he settled in the water next to her. “So about three years after we’d settled there, Nicodemus decided it was time to start searching for a permanent home, where we knew NIMH could never find us.

“This valley is federally protected land,” he continued. “A sanctuary for animals who have lost their homes, we knew the scientists would never be permitted to search for us here.”

He waded toward the center, dipping his hands under before running them through his hair.

“Nicodemus put me in charge of organizing the scouting groups, and it only took a few months for them to find the valley. Of course, the council had to see it for themselves before they could agree on it.”

She laughed a bit, a delicate sound that suited her perfectly. He chuckled a bit.

“They all agreed it would be the perfect home for us,” he finished. “Though it would mean sending a work crew up here permanently, in order for any real progress to be made.”

He looked over his shoulder, noting how she did her best to wash while keeping her back pressed against the wall, as though she were terrified of falling off that natural seat.

“Elizabeth?” he waded toward her, catching the embarrassed tint in her ears.

“I...can’t really swim,” she admitted, clasping her small hands together. “Jonathan tried to teach me with Teresa and Martin, but there was always something else for me to worry about: laundry, gathering food, taking care of Timothy and Cynthia…”

She trailed off, still not looking at him. He chuckled again.

“It took him some time to figure it out, too, I was actually the one who taught him.”

She started.

“Really?”

He laughed.

“He was terrified of the water before I helped him through it, though he never said why.”

“He never would admit when he was scared,” she agreed. “We’d joke that I was usually scared enough for both of us.”

 

They shared a laugh; that was one of few things Jon had ever said about his family, and Justin wondered if it were because he’d been worried what Jenner or his other enemies might have done to them.

“Justin,” her soft voice drew him back to the present. “Do you think you could teach me? I mean, if you have the time.”

He smiled, then took her hand.

“I’ll always have time for you, m’lady,” he said, remembering how he’d spoken to her in the rosebush. He remembered how something in him had fluttered, seeing her shy inquisitiveness at the library, how his heart had ached when he’d revealed just how much Jonathan had kept from her. He released her hand and climbed out, snatching the larger towel and scrubbing roughly at his wet fur. It hadn’t mattered what he’d done since they had left the farm, he’d never been able to go more than a few moments without thinking of her, the guilt that he’d had to leave her to deal with all those revelations alone. He finished drying and grabbed his shirt, keeping his back to her as he dressed. “Though we may want to wait until you’ve finished recovering.”

He sat down on the bench, staring at the Stone, the small light inside pulsing softly as always. She took his hand in both of hers, closing his fingers around it.

“You’re so brave, Justin,” she said. “And you don’t need this to prove it.”

He sighed, his grip briefly tightening on it.

“So I’ve been told,” he murmured, then let go. He turned to her, his gaze trailing over the smooth fringe of hair at her brow, the faint, swirling scars on her delicate hands, the new crimson cape Annabella had mentioned she was making for her. Her big blue eyes sparkled as always, kind and curious.

“I-Is something wrong?”

Elizabeth’s soft words made him realize just how long he’d been staring at her. He flashed a small, charming smile, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand.

“I just didn’t think you could get any lovelier,” he whispered. It was true. In the few months they’d been apart, her gentle beauty seemed to have increased a hundredfold, the fire in his heart growing brighter every moment he spent with her. She rewarded his words with the sweetest blush, her eyes sparkling like they had the day they’d met.

“Oh...Justin,” his name flew on a sweet sigh. She put a hand on his chest, the warmth from her touch spreading quickly through his veins, soon setting his fur on end. He found himself leaning closer, her nervous breath shaking lightly against his lips before they settled on hers. He felt her fingers curl around the cloth of his vest, her soft moan nearly enough to send him over the edge. The ecstasy was short-lived, however, ending the same moment their kiss did. Replaced with the fear that something had just gone terribly wrong. She pushed away from him, nearly falling off the bench in her rush to leave.

“I-I have to go,” she stammered, clutching her cape. He didn’t stop her from rushing off, his heart pounding in his head as he tried to figure out what had just happened.


End file.
